Day 107: Commons Cross - Belfast

We slept like a log in the Applegreen car park, surrounded by trucks that snored all night. But this time there were no kids playing volleyball at three in the morning, so absolute peace. And with that hum of silenced engines as a lullaby, we closed our eyes and fell sound asleep.

In the morning, it was Tito Javi's turn to shower. While he was soaking, a Volkswagen Transporter camper van with two men inside, John and Alastair, approached. They stared at our van as if it were a strange creature in a zoo, and immediately started chatting with papi Edu. When Tito Javi came out, perfumed and with his hair tousled, he also joined the conversation. They talked about campers, trips, a thousand stories, and even exchanged phone numbers. "We live near Belfast, come and see us sometime," they told us. And of course, with so much good vibes, the day started with a smile.

We left after twelve o'clock, heading north. And suddenly: the border with Northern Ireland! Well, saying border is an exaggeration... a "Welcome" sign and, suddenly, the traffic signs in miles. I stayed the same, because anything over 10 legs per hour already seems like Formula 1 to me.

First stop: Newry. As always, Lidl first (it's already a tradition: no city without Lidl for us), and then a cultural walk. The cathedral is spectacular, with towers that seem to want to scratch the clouds. This time the humans did go in, they left me out of the party, of course. Inside there was a solemn atmosphere, with colorful stained glass windows that cast flashes throughout the interior. They told me later, because in the meantime I was doing an olfactory inspection of the surroundings.

And the most curious thing about the city: its town hall, planted on top of a bridge. Yes, yes, as you hear it. They built it there because they felt like it, and now it seems to float over the river. Papi Edu wouldn't stop taking photos, and I thought that at any moment a troll would come out from under the bridge to charge a toll.

Half an hour later, we were in a picture-postcard corner: a small lake surrounded by nature. There we stopped for lunch. And just then a very nice gentleman appeared who said to us: "I uploaded this site to Park4Night myself". He was a neighbor of the land next door, and in addition to being friendly, he turned out to be an improvised tourist guide: he gave us advice on secret corners of Northern Ireland that do not appear in the guides. A pro.

After lunch and a while of rest, it was time for the road again to Hillsborough. And there were John and Alastair, waiting for us with a coffee at their house. Irish hospitality in person. They have two small dogs with whom I immediately made friends, although without losing my serious demeanor. We chatted long and hard (well, they chatted, I listened half-heartedly) and, of course, the camper theme couldn't be missing. As they had them parked almost in front of the house, we went out into the street and it was like an improvised exhibition: first we saw theirs, then we showed ours. A kind of "Private Camper Show" with a lot of pride and zero tickets sold.

After the visit, a warm farewell in the street and back on the road. Twenty minutes later we arrived at an old acquaintance: the car park in the forest where we had already slept a couple of times. Tonight there were only two more motorhomes, total silence, fresh air and that magical atmosphere that forests have when night falls. There we stayed, happy and peaceful.